The time-messenger arrives, as always,
and inquires
“What color does the water possess?”
Countless times, I’ve beheld the water
gazing into it—
the ebb and flow of waves
the silhouette of the Himalayas—
and the reflection of terrains.
Much more have I gazed
at the swirling impressions of my own face
mirrored in the water.
The azure of the sky danced inside the water
the twinkles of stars shimmered, also in the water
and countless times, patches of clouds as well
played hide and seek…within the water.
Yet, I remain unaware,
what color does the water possess?
In the distant corridors of past memories
when you stood on the shore
the water’s hue mirrored you to me
and as I lingered, it turned akin to myself.
Ask yourself—
whether the color of water is like you or me
as you laughed, water responded with rosy smiles
as you wept, dark clouds shrouded the water’s surface
in an instant, the water blushed pink
and in another, swiftly, it darkened.
Now once again, I am questioned
my being is filled with spots of queries
and time persistently asks from behind the curtain—
“What color does the water possess?”
Today, it feels—
perhaps, the color of the water
is akin to the hue of the relationship between
yours and mine.
A relationship that has no name
water that has no color.
Grey Sparrow Journal 